real noise of battle--fierce shouting, the shrill cries of wounded and
maddened horses as they struck with their feet, and bit as fiercely at
the fighting foe as did their masters. The mist cleared slowly, and,
when it had wholly lifted, the fight was spread over every part of the
field of siege. Ali Wad Hei's men had gathered themselves together after
the first deadly onslaught, and were fighting fiercely, shouting the
Muslim battle-cry, "Allah hu achbar!" Able to bring up reinforcements,
the great losses at first sustained were soon made up, and the sheer
weight of numbers gave them courage and advantage. By rushes with lance
and sword and rifle they were able, at last, to drive David's men back
upon their old defences with loss. Then charge upon charge ensued, and
each charge, if it cost them much, cost the besieged more, by reason of
their fewer numbers. At one point, however, the besieged became again
the attacking party. This was where Achmet Pasha had command. His men
on one side of the circle, as Ebn Ezra Bey's men on the other, fought
with a valour as desperate as the desert ever saw. But David, galloping
here and there to order, to encourage, to prevent retreat at one point,
or to urge attack at another, saw that the doom of his gallant force was
certain; for the enemy were still four to one, in spite of the carnage of
the first attack. Bullets hissed past him. One carried away a button,
one caught the tip of his ear, one pierced the fez he wore; but he felt
nothing of this, saw nothing. He was buried in the storm of battle
preparing for the end, for the final grim defence, when his men would
retreat upon the one last strong fort, and there await their fate. From
this absorption he was roused by Lacey, who came galloping towards him.

"They've come, Saadat, they've come at last! We're saved--oh, my God,
you bet we're all right now! See! See, Saadat!"

David saw. Five steamers carrying the Egyptian flag were bearing around